A Peaceful Tempest
by purplepagoda
Summary: What Wendy insists is just going to be a couple of drinks turns into something a little more. When Wendy starts to fall for a certain handsome EMT will she be able to survive the tailspin it sets into motion?
1. More Than Drinks

Wendy agrees to a couple of drinks with a certain stud-ly EMT named Tommy. Drinks, and talking somehow find their way back to his place. After a few too many drinks Wendy nearly drops her green earring on the floor. Sitting at his counter, in his kitchen, on a couple of barstools he leans in for a kiss. She doesn't resist him. He leads her out of the kitchen towards his bedroom. She nearly trips over a pair of child's sized pink Converse. She stops, and shoots him a questioning glance.

"I'm sorry, I am always telling her to pick up her stuff."

"She's not here, is she?"

"Wendy it's a pretty small apartment. There are only two bedrooms, and the walls are paper thin, I think that you would know if she was."

"So, no?"

They have managed to make it as far as the living room. He leads her to the couch. She takes a seat on the arm. He sits next to her.

"What is with your phobia of children?"

"It is not a phobia," she insists.

"Then what is it, exactly?"

She shrugs, "I guess they just make me uncomfortable."

"Do you dislike them?"

She shakes her head, "No. I just think that they are an acquired taste."

"One that you have never acquired?"

"Something like that."

"You never considered it?"

"The thought of having a child rarely crosses my mind," she reveals.

"You don't want them?"

"I am not against having them. Nor am I opposed to people who have their own."

"So what is the hang up?"

"There is no hang up."

"You don't want them?"

She exhales, frustrated by the entire situation, "I never said that."

"Do you, or not?"

"What I want doesn't matter."

"Of course it does," he argues.

"Not particularly."

"What would make you say that?" He arches an eyebrow.

"I can't have them."

"Oh. I'm sorry… I…" he begins to stammer. He's at a loss for words for the first time since she's met him.

In attempt to end the misery, and avoid talking about it any further she kisses him. He quickly pushes the topic of conversation to the back of his mind. Hormones take over, and whatever reason, or rational thought is left in his head subsides, at least temporarily. They never make it to his bedroom. They end up rolling off the couch, onto the floor, nearly breaking the coffee table in the process.

She tries to figure out how she's going to slip out unnoticed, as she lies on an area rug, next to him. She rolls onto her side, and is completely startled when she sees a pair of eyes staring back at her. His dark eyes watch her intently. Without a word he tucks a stray hair behind her ear.

"I hope that I didn't give you the wrong impression. I am usually a one, and done kind of girl."

"Is once really going to be enough?" He smirks.

"I am not looking for a relationship," she adds.

"Neither am I."

"So, then, we're clear?"

"Absolutely."

"And on the same page?"

"Except for the one and done part. I think we could both go another round."

"Not on this floor," she shakes her head.

"Where ever you want," he tells her.

"In the back of…"

He cuts her off, "Do you know how many microorganisms are in the back of a squad?"

"You said anywhere," she teases as moves towards him.

"Have you seen the view?"

"The view?" She questions.

"From the roof?"

They both managed to find their way off the floor. He leads her to the back of the apartment to a small laundry area. He opens the sliding glass door, and leads her up a set of stairs. She follows him onto the roof of his five story building. She fights her feline instinct to perch herself a top the edge of the building.

* * *

She tries to sneak back in the house later that night. It's after three when she quietly slips through the back door. She tiptoes towards the stairs. She's nearly to the staircase when a light flips on. She turns, and finds Freya standing at the top of the staircase. Freya's lips curl into a smile.

"Well look what the cat dragged in."

Wendy rolls her eyes, "Very funny."

She climbs the stairs, and meets Freya at the top. She ushers Freya into her room, closing the door behind them.

"How was it?"

"Fine," she tries to play coy.

"You met him at ten thirty. I think that it was more than fine."

"We just talked."

"You two left the bar at midnight."

"Is that a crime?"

"So you talked for three and a half hours?"

"It is a twelve minute walk," Wendy points out.

"So you talked for three hours, and eighteen minutes?" Freya responds suspiciously.

"No," Wendy smiles as she takes out her earrings, and places them back into her jewelry box.

"I should get back to be so that mom doesn't hear us."

"Night."

Freya leaves the room. Wendy takes a shower, and collapses into bed. The next thing she knows she's being awakened to the sound of Joanna's voice.

"Are you going to get out of bed at any point today?" She questions.

Wendy opens her eyes, and sits up in the bed. She finds Joanna sitting on the edge of the bed, right next to her.

"I just got to sleep."

"Just now? I don't think so. What time did you get in?"

"Three thirty," Wendy admits.

"Well you've had more than a cat nap."

"Ha, ha," Wendy responds, clearly not amused.

Joanna points to the alarm clock on the bedside stand, next to them. "Wendy it's twelve thirty."

Wendy glances at the clock. "Shit! I'm late."

"Late? For what?"

"I was supposed to meet Tommy for lunch?"

Joanna furrows her brow, "You're going to see him again?"

"What is with that look?"

"Are you dating him?"

"I didn't say that."

"It certainly sounds that way to me."

"I am just meeting him for lunch."

"Lunch? That is a date. You don't do dates. I don't really know what it is that you do with men, and I would prefer not to, but I do know that you rarely do it twice."

"I really like him, okay?"

"Just remember you're down to your last life."

"You act more like my mother than my sister."

"Someone has to protect you."

"From what?"

"Yourself."


	2. Tap The Brakes

A few weeks later she finds herself sitting at a picnic table in the town square with Tommy. He sits across the table from her. She notices the worry lines that seems furrowed into his forehead.

"Tommy what's wrong?"

He makes eye contact with her, "My divorce was finalized this morning."

"That is great news."

"Yeah," he nods in agreement.

"Why do you sound so nervous?"

"I have to head back to the station in a few minutes. I don't have a lot of time, but I wanted to talk to you, in person."

"You're ending this, aren't you?"

He furrows his brow, "What? No," he shakes his head.

"Then why did you want to talk to me in person?"

"I am nervous, because I have something I wanted to ask you."

"I will warn you again, as I have warned you before, I am not the marrying type. If you pull out a ring I will punch you in the face."

"And perform some voodoo shit, too, I'm sure."

"Why are we here?"

"I just wanted to ask you to move in with me."

"What?!"

"It would mean a lot to me."

"What about your daughter?"

"She loves you."

"You just think that."

"We talked about it."

Wendy shakes her head, "I can't."

"Just think about it."

"I can't," she repeats, the utter thought of such a commitment causing her heart palpitations.

"Just think about it," he begs as he vacates his seat. He returns to the station. She sits at the picnic table in complete and utter shock for the next ten minutes. Finally she collects her thoughts enough to head home.

Joanna is sitting in the living room, reading a book, when she enters the house. She looks up, and finds a clearly distraught Wendy moving towards her. She sinks onto a seat on the couch, next to her. Joanna puts a bookmark in, and places the book on the coffee table, in front of her.

"Are you okay?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"Did something happen?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Maybe."

"Wendy where is your necklace? Why haven't you been wearing it?"

"After Tommy, and I went for drinks, I just felt like it was in the way. What is the point of wearing it? It's not as if it keeps me from dying. It just reminds me that I am down to one life. Why are you changing the subject?"

"I was trying to distract you from whatever drama you are currently involved in."

"Right," she nods.

"Did he dump you?"

"No."

"You dumped him?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Don't tell me that you're going to marry this one too."

"I don't want to marry him."

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with him lately."

"I don't want to marry anyone ever again."

"Then what is the problem? Are you bored with him already?"

"No. He asked me to move in with him."

"He wants you to move in with him? What did you tell him?"

"I told him no."

"Why?"

"I don't want to move in with him."

"For what reason?"

"I just can't."

"Are you just playing with him? Are you going to get rid of him when you get bored?"

"No. I don't want to hurt him."

Joanna rolls her eyes, "Since when have you ever worried about that?"

"Since I am down to my last life."

"I don't buy it."

"I don't like baggage."

"What baggage does he have?"

"He has a daughter."

"The same daughter that you talk about all of the time? The two of you have been seeing each other for three weeks, and you have already met his daughter."

"I met her at the fourth of July."

"As I recall the three of you went to the movies together last night. I think that you're getting attached."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"You aren't afraid of hurting him. You are afraid that you actually care about him."

"What makes you think that?"

"You just said that you didn't want to hurt him."

"Why are you using my own words against me?"

"Because you want to be with him, you are just too stubborn to admit it."

"I am with him. I have been with him. I have even been with him in the biblical sense."

"I don't need to know about your exploits with the EMT."

"His place is too small."

"Here is a novel idea, you should get a job, and then you could get a bigger place, together."

"What exactly do you think that I am qualified to do?"

"Not trapeze."

"That was cold."

"I am sure that you could find something to get paid doing."

"I would prefer not to die of syphilis, again."

"Maybe you should drink a glass of milk, and take a nap, and think about it."

"You are so mean sometimes."

"It is my job to pick on you."

"Too bad you can't get paid to do that. You would be a millionaire," she replies as she vacates her seat on the couch.

"Where are you going?"

"Maybe I'll just go drink a glass of milk, and take a nap," she snarls.

"You're more likely to die as a cat."

"I don't want to be a cat. I just want to be normal."

"Normal? You hate any sense of normalcy."

"Bite me," she calls from the other room.


	3. Self Sabotaging

An hour later Joanna makes her way to Wendy's room. She finds Wendy taking a cat nap on the bed. She flips open her jewelry box, and peers inside. Wendy's necklace stares up at her, as she pulls open a drawer.

"Wendy?"

"I'm not asleep," she groans, "Just sulking."

"Wendy when did this change colors?"

Wendy opens her eyes, and begrudgingly climbs out of bed. She slowly moves towards Joanna.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your pendant changed colors."

"To what, black? Now I'm even closer to death?"

"No."

"Green? My good behavior has earned me another life?" She hopes.

"No," Joanna shakes her head.

Joanna holds the necklace out for Wendy to see.

Wendy scrunches her nose, and furrows her brow."Purple? What does purple mean?"

Joanna shrugs, "I don't know."

"You are supposed to know these things."

"I have no clue what purple means. When was the last time you wore it?"

"The first night I went over to Tommy's."

"You took it off when you got home?"

"Yes."

"Have you worn since?"

"No."

"Did you notice what color it was when you took it off?"

"No. I was still slightly tipsy. I was more concerned about making it to bed."

"When was the last time you took it off?"

"Never."

"So you don't know if it changes colors when you take it off?"

"It's not a mood ring."

"I will see what I can find out."

"Should I put it back on?"

"That is up to you."

Wendy slips the necklace back on. She fastens it, and studies the gem in the mirror. It remains a deep, rich purple color.

"What are you going to tell Tommy?"

"I talked to him on the phone, already."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I needed a break."

"Why would you tell him that?"

"I just need to slow down. First I move in with him, and then we get married, and then… bam we don't live happily ever after because…"

Joanna cuts her off, "You only have one life? Guess what he's got the same mortality as you do."

"Then he finds out that I'm a witch, and burns me at the stake."

"People don't do that anymore."

"I am fairly certain if he knows how to restart a heart he could figure out how to stop one."

* * *

The following morning she wakes up feeling groggy. It's nearly ten o'clock when she finally wakes up. Her sleep the previous night was fitful at best. She sits up, and instantly wishes she hadn't. All of her blood rushes to her head, and she is forced to lie her head back down on her pillow. After a few minutes she slowly shifts into a sitting position, and is able to get out of bed. She heads into the bathroom for a shower, and doesn't come out for an hour.

Joanna knocks on the bathroom door, "Wendy are you okay in there?"

"Go away," she growls.

Joanna ignores her wishes. She twists the doorknob, and pushes the door open. She steps into the bathroom, and closes the door behind her. She finds Wendy leaning against the outside of the bathtub, still in her pajamas.

"You've been in here an hour, what gives?"

"Leave me alone," she insists.

"Wendy, you're still in your pajamas."

"Leave me alone."

"What is wrong with you?"

"I feel like crap."

"If you're going to sulk you should call him back, and tell him you've changed your mind."

"I am not sulking."

"Then why are you still in your pajamas?"

"I just told you, I feel like crap."

"Can you define that?"

"I feel physically ill."

"So physically ill that you couldn't get in the shower."

"Every time I try I just end up back on the floor."

"You're falling on the floor?"

"No. I end up sitting on the floor."

"Why? Are you having episodes of vertigo?"

"No."

"I don't understand."

Wendy groans, and mutters something unintelligible as she crawls to the toilet. She empties the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. Joanna reacts quickly, and holds her hair. When she's finished she flushes, and slowly, and shakily rises to her feet. She brushes her teeth at the sink, and gargles with Scope. Feeling weak she opts to take a seat on the edge of the bathtub. Joanna places a cold washcloth on her forehead.

"What did you eat last night?"

"I was too tired to fix anything. I ate a bowl of cereal."

"I put your dinner in the fridge."

"It was too much effort to warm it up."

"Maybe you have a hair ball that's trying to work its way up," Joanna teases.

Wendy scowls, "This is serious."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist."

"I never get sick."

"You probably just have a stomach virus. I am sure that by tomorrow it will be over."

"Something is wrong," Wendy insists.

"What makes you say that?"

"In desperation I tried to heal myself, and nothing happened."

"You know that doesn't work. I am sure that this will pass."

"I am certain that I will die before it does."

"No, you won't."

Joanna helps her back to her feet. Wendy leans on her as Joanna leads her back to her bed. She tucks her in, and prays that she falls asleep, because she is impossible when she's sick. After a couple of hours Wendy starts to feel better. She takes a shower, and ventures downstairs. She finds Joanna in the kitchen working on an herbal remedy. The smell gags her. She makes a beeline for the sink. She dry heaves for a few seconds, but is able to keep the contents of her stomach.


	4. Two Words

She wakes up in the middle of the night from a dead sleep. The light from the bathroom wakes Freya. She wanders into the bathroom, in her pajamas to find Wendy hugging the toilet bowl. Without a word she pulls her hair into a sloppy pony tail. When Wendy's is finished she helps her to her feet. Wendy repeats her all too familiar oral care routine. She leans against the counter, too tired to make the trip back to her room.

"Are you going to make it?"

"I think I'm dying," Wendy replies, dramatically.

"Why would you think that?"

"My pendant turned purple. I put it back on, and I've been sick ever since."

"Maybe you should take it off," Freya responds.

"I took it off hours ago. It didn't help."

"I don't think that you're dying."

"I wish I was dead."

"Why would you wish that?"

"I hate puking. It is all I have done since I woke up yesterday. Your mother was making an herbal remedy, and I nearly puked on her."

"Herbal, or hairball?" Freya jokes.

"Not funny," Wendy grits her teeth.

"Is that why you stayed upstairs for dinner?"

"With the door closed. I don't know what is wrong with me."

"Maybe you're pregnant," Freya suggests.

Wendy busts out laughing, "You are funny."

"I'm serious."

"You know that's not possible."

"Maybe it is now."

"How?"

Freya shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe the curse was somehow reversed."

"Why would someone do that?"

"How should I know?"

"I am not pregnant. It's not possible."

"That's probably why your pendant turned purple," Freya jokes.

"Freya, I think you've lost your mind."

"It's easy enough to find out."

"If it will make you feel better I will pee on a stick in the morning, despite the fact that I can assure you that it will be negative."

"Why wait?"

"I am not going to the drug store at three o'clock in the morning for a plastic stick that isn't worth the pee I would saturate it with."

Freya opens the cabinet doors under the sink. She pulls out a box, and hands it to Wendy.

"Why is there a pregnancy test in the cabinet?"

"Have you met Ingrid? She likes to be prepared. Although with the amount of condoms in there I would think the pregnancy test would be totally unnecessary."

"There are condoms under the sink?"

"And feminine hygiene products, too."

"Good to know."

"You've never looked in there, before?"

"Why would I be crawling around under the sink?"

Freya shrugs, "I don't know. Just pee on the stick."

"Is this really necessary?"

"It is one thing that we can at least rule out, if nothing else."

"I can already rule it out. Where would you even come up with such an idea?"

Freya takes the box out of Wendy's hand, and rips the top off. She tears the plastic package off the pregnancy test, and hands the stick to Wendy. Wendy looks at her blankly. She wears a look of confusion that rivals that of a third grader trying to solve a calculus equation.

"You've never taken one before?" Freya questions.

"No. Why would I? Have you?"

"Of course. You just pee on it."

"What if I miss?"

"You can pee in a cup, and soak the test in it."

"Just give it to me," she growls. Freya turns her back so Wendy can pee. When she's finished Wendy places the test on the counter. Freya furrows her brow in disgust as Wendy washes her hands.

"What?"

"I put my toothbrush on that counter."

"And whose fault is that? I don't know why you were so insistent on this. I am cursed. What part of that don't you understand? There is no chance in hell that I'm pregnant."

"In two minutes I will go back to bed, and leave you alone."

"This is ridiculous. I am going back to bed now," Wendy informs her. She steps past Freya, and returns to her room. She crawls under her covers, and gets situated. She closes her eyes, and doesn't give the notion a second thought. She's nearly dozed off, when she hears Freya enter the room. She flips the lamp on in Wendy's face. Wendy rolls onto her side, and glares at Freya.

"You do not have to turn the lamp on in my face when I am trying to sleep just to prove that I am, in fact, right."

"I'm not."

"Then why are you flipping the lamp on in my face?"

Freya hands Wendy the tissue wrapped pregnancy test. Wendy glances at the test, and hands it back to Freya. She yawns as she rolls back over.

"So what?"

"Wendy did you actually read what it said?"

"One word, not pregnant."

"That's two," Freya points out.

Wendy sits straight up in bed, "What?!"

Freya holds up the test for her to see, "You got one word, not two."

Wendy slips the test from Freya's fingers, "That can't be right."

"It's in plain English."

"Look, Freya is this is some kind of joke, the joke is over. It wasn't funny."

"It's not a joke. I didn't do anything to this test. You are the one who peed on it."

"It can't be right. I am sure that it is a false positive," she begins to feel a sense of panic.

"They are pretty accurate."

"Something is really wrong. This has to be a mistake."

"Wendy I don't think it's a mistake."

"It has to be," she argues.

"You can take another one in the morning. I'll go get more."

"Okay," she agrees.

Freya shuts off the light, and leaves the room. Wendy sinks under her covers praying that sleep with soon envelope her. Freya quietly exits the room, and carefully closes Wendy's door on her way out. When she turns around she finds her brother standing in the hallway behind her.

"You scared me."

"What are you doing up so late?" Fredrick questions.

"Nothing," Freya hides the pregnancy test behind her back.

"Is Wendy alright?"

"She's just not feeling well," Freya tries to downplay the situation.

"She's not pregnant is she?"

Freya furrows her brow, "Why would you ask that?"

"It sounded like she was puking when I walked by earlier."

"Our grandfather cursed her. She can't have children."

"What would you say if I told you that I removed the curse?"

"I didn't know that was possible."

"Neither did I."

"If you didn't know it was possible how did you do it?"

"For a long time I didn't know it was possible. Shortly before leaving Asgard I learned that it was."

"If you can reverse the curse on her, then you can reverse the curse on all of us."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Reversing her curse was much simpler, because she is already down to her last life. That makes a difference. I tried to figure out how to remove the other curse, but it was far more complicated. I am not even sure that it is possible."

"Are you telling me that you already removed Wendy's curse?"

"Yes," he nods.

"Why wouldn't you tell her that?"

"I guess that I assumed I wouldn't need to."

"Why would you assume that?"

"I thought that if she acted like a responsible adult that it wouldn't be an issue."

"Are you talking about the same Wendy I know? She's not the most responsible adult."

"From the sounds of things, that is about to change."


	5. Assumptions

Despite the fact that nausea she has been experiencing has temporarily subsided, Wendy still can't manage to fall asleep. She lies in the silence of her room for a couple of hours. Eventually she gives up on the idea of sleeping all together. She takes a quick shower, and gets dressed. She doesn't bother drying her hair, knowing it will spend most of the day pulled back. She brushes her wet hair into a ponytail. She stealthily descends the stairs. She slips out the back door, and gets into the car. She pulls out of the driveway, and heads to the twenty four hour pharmacy. She could never understand why East End had a twenty four hour pharmacy considering the exceedingly small population.

She pulls into a parking spot on the street outside the pharmacy. She exits the vehicle, and ignores the parking meter, fully aware of the fact that it is free between the hours of ten pm, and six am. It's not even five thirty yet. She enters the pharmacy, and tries to avoid any eye contact with the cashier. She scurries towards the back of the store.

She stands in the pregnancy test aisle feeling more than a little confused, and overwhelmed. There over a dozen types of pregnancy tests. Overwhelmed by the choices she randomly selects half a dozen, and makes a beeline for the register. She approaches the register wearing a pair of jeans, and a hooded sweatshirt. She places her items on the checkout counter, and continues to refuse to make eye contact. The cashier reads her the total. Wendy pulls the cash out of her pocket.

She finally makes eye contact as the cashier hands her the change, and the bag with her purchases. She realizes that it is an acne-faced teenage boy. It's clearly not anybody who cares what she is buying. She grabs her bag, and swiftly leaves the store.

She returns home, and makes a dash for the bathroom. She chooses to use the downstairs bathroom in attempt not to disturb anyone who might be sleeping. She enters the half bath, closing, and locking the door behind her. She meticulously reads the directions on the first package. She removes the contents of the box, and chooses to pee in the cup that is provided this time. She dips the plastic stick in her own urine, and places the contaminated stick on top of the box that is perched atop the counter.

She proceeds to remove the rest of the pregnancy tests from their boxes. She saturates each of them with urine, and places the used tests on top of their corresponding boxes on the counter. There is barely enough room for her in the bathroom. She closes the lid to the toilet, and takes a seat. The surface of the counter is not visible under the array of pregnancy test boxes. Wendy pulls her phone out of her pocket, and places it on her lap. She stares at the screen in silence, waiting for the time to pass. After what seems like an eternity, the two minutes are over. She takes a deep breath, and tries to mentally prepare herself. She reminds herself that it isn't possible, and the first test had to be incorrect.

She rises from her seat, and takes the two paces required to reach the counter. Her eyes begin to scan the tests. She glances at the first one. She quickly moves on. She feels a mix of emotion as she proceeds with the next necessary step. She dumps the evidence back into the brown paper shopping bag.

She exits the bathroom, and heads outside to the garbage can. She stuffs the bag into the trash can. The cool morning air hits her cheeks. She inhales, in an attempt to calm herself. She does her best not to tear up, but she can't help it. As she stands in the cool morning air she wishes she had a cigarette, one of the habits in a previous life that led to her untimely demise. She hears the screen door bang against the house, and spins in its direction.

"Wendy what are you doing out here? It's early."

"I was just taking some trash out," she answers as she moves towards Joanna, and away from the trash can.

"At this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep."

They move towards the house. They enter the kitchen in silence. Wendy takes a seat at the kitchen table.

"Do you want some tea?"

"No," she answers.

Joanna brews a cup of warm tea, and joins Wendy at the table. Wendy leans against the back of her chair. She stares past Joanna.

"Wendy?"

Wendy forces herself to get out of her own head long enough to carry on a conversation, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?'

"Fine," she says flatly.

"Wendy don't lie to me."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"If you don't want to talk about it, then I will start breakfast. What do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Pancakes?" She questions as she rises from her seat.

"No."

"Eggs?"

"No," she nearly gags.

"What about an omelet?"

"Joanna! Please stop talking about food," she begs.

"Are you still feeling sick?"

"I certainly feel sickened."

Joanna shoots her a questioning look, as she lowers herself back into her chair, "You might as well tell me what's going on. I will find out anyway."

"No," she shakes her head.

"Maybe if you tell me I can help you fix it."

"You can't fix it," she argues.

"Is this about you, and Tommy? I really think you should talk to him. I know that you are afraid of hurting him. I think you're afraid that he'll hurt you too. Regardless, I think that you should give him a chance. Most people only live once, and let's face it you're down to your last life."

"I think that I've accumulated an extra one," she mutters under her breath.

"How would you accumulate an extra one? You know that's possible."

"A lot of things aren't possible."

"Wendy what is going on?"

"If I were any other person what would you think?"

Joanna furrows her brow, "What do you mean?"

"Given my symptoms," Wendy responds.

"If you were anyone else I would probably just assume that you're pregnant. However, you are not any other person, so for obvious reasons I will not assume that. We will figure out what's going on with you. Like I said, it's probably just a virus."

"If only it were that simple."

"You've figured out what it is?" Joanna queries.

"Yes," Wendy nods.

"And?"

"I would classify it more as a parasite than a virus."

"A parasite? You're telling me that you have a worm? You haven't been out of East End in months."

"I believe it is something that I acquired here."

"Where?"


	6. Removal

"If I had to guess I would say that it was acquired on the floor of a certain EMT's apartment."

"What were you doing on the floor?"

Wendy smirks. Joanna rolls her eyes, "Never mind. What makes you think that you picked it up there?"

"Or it could have been on the roof of his building, or the back…"

Joanna cuts her off, "You're sure that it's a parasite, and not something more detrimental?"

"Like what?"

"Syphilis?"

"It's definitely not syphilis?"

"You're sure?"

"Yep."

"How did you determine that you had said parasite?"

"I tested positive."

"You tested positive? When did you have the test done?"

"This morning."

"Did you actually go to a doctor?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"You are making all of this up, aren't you?"

"No, maybe just stretching the truth."

"Why don't you just tell me the truth?"

"Because the truth is even more unbelievable than fiction."

"Try me."

Wendy shakes her head, "I don't think that you're ready to hear this."

"Maybe you're just not ready to tell me. Are you dying, again?"

"I certainly hope not. I can see how you might draw that conclusion, though."

"Wendy, just spit it out. What is wrong with you?"

"It might kill me. I guess it would be a rather poetic way to die."

"What would be a rather poetic way to die?"

"During childbirth," she replies.

"Excuse me? Wendy, need I remind you that isn't possible?"

"Modern technology says otherwise."

"You have been seeing this EMT for three weeks, and already you are looking into modern technology to overcome a curse that has been around for centuries?"

"No," Wendy shakes her head.

"I don't understand. What are you telling me?"

"I think I'm pregnant," she reveals.

Joanna's eyes widen, "What?! What would make you think that?"

"I took a test."

"A pregnancy test?" Joanna responds in outrage.

"Shh!"

"Why would you do that?"

"Freya made me."

"I am guessing that the results were inconclusive."

She shakes her head, "They were pretty conclusive."

"If you took a test, and it was negative, then why would you think that…"

Wendy cuts her off, "It wasn't."

"Wasn't, what?"

"Negative."

"It was probably just a false positive," Joanna suggests.

"That's what I said."

"I am sure that there is a reasonable explanation, other than you being pregnant."

"I am not saying that any of this is reasonable. None of it makes any sense at all."

"I don't think that you should jump to conclusions based on one test."

"I'm not. I took six more."

"What?!"

"I didn't believe it, either, so I took six more tests this morning. All of them were positive."

"You really think that you're pregnant?"

"I don't know what to think," she admits.

Fredrick enters the room, and Wendy clams up.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes to Wendy.

"For what?" She furrows her brow in confusion.

"I should have told you."

"Told me what? Is this some sick game that you're playing?" Wendy probes.

"Fredrick, please tell me that you are not responsible for this," Joanna begs.

"I think that I share in the responsibility," he admits.

Wendy clears her throat, "What do you mean?"

"I should have told you. I am so sorry."

"Told me what?" Wendy becomes more irritated with each passing second.

"I didn't think that it would work. I assumed that you would be far too cautious for anything to ever happen."

"What is going on here?" Joanna locks eyes with her son.

He pulls out a chair, and takes a seat at the table with them.

"I found a way to reverse the curse," he admits.

"What?" Joanna responds.

"Just the curse on Aunt Wendy," he clarifies.

"I don't understand," Wendy admits.

"Since she is on her last life it changes things. It changes the realms of possibility. It made it easier."

"Easier to do what?" The vein in Joanna's forehead pulsates.

"Easier to remove the curse."

"I didn't think that was possible," Joanna admits.

"Apparently it is."

"What does it mean?" Joanna interrogates him.

"I couldn't restore her immortality. That wasn't possible. I simply removed the curse."

"I already used eight lives," Wendy points out.

"Yes," he nods.

"So the only part of the curse that you were successful in removing was…" she trails off.

"The childless part," he admits.

She smacks her forehead, "You have got to be kidding me."

He pushes his chair away from the table, and excuses himself from the room. Wendy stares at her sister, completely dumbfounded. After several moments of silence she breaks the silence.

"Say something," Wendy begs.

"I don't know what to say."

"Tell me that it's not possible. Tell me that I am out of my mind. Please tell me that all the claims he just made are totally out of the realm of possibility."

"I don't know if they are or not."

"You are supposed to know these things," Wendy reminds her.

"I'm sorry, I don't have an answer for you."

The reality of the situation begins to set in, "This can't be happening."

"Wendy calm down."

"How am I supposed to calm down?"

"Take a deep breath."

"What if I have a litter? I can't do this. I never wanted to do this."

"Wendy, just stop. We will figure this out."

"What if we don't?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions, okay?"

"Really?!"

"We will make you a doctor's appointment, and we'll figure it out."


	7. Waiting For Confirmation

She is so entangled in her own thought that she doesn't hear footsteps approaching. She sits on a swing on the far side of the park, watching kids run, and scream, and play. With little warning she spots someone out of the corner of her eye. She looks to her left, and finds Tommy sitting next to her.

"What are you doing here?" She questions.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I was just out for a walk."

"You are aware that parents get suspicious when someone without children comes into the park, and starts watching kids, right?"

"I honestly wasn't even thinking about it."

"I got some phone calls."

"I'm sorry. I'll head home," she begins to rise from the swing she's sitting in. She feels his fingers wrap around her arm.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lies.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you?"

"To be perfectly honest I was a little bit disappointed."

"I'm sorry. I'm just not ready to move in with you."

"That's fine, but I don't want to end this because you're not ready."

"I just need some time."

"How much time?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"You can have as much time as you need," he tells her.

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Why would you even worry about that?"

"Because I am not like other people."

He smirks, "And that is exactly what I like about you."

"Please just give me some time."

"There's not someone else is there?"

"No," she reassures him.

"Okay, but you should head home before these parents start throwing rocks at you."

"Right," she nods in agreement.

He returns to the station, and she heads home. She walks slowly down the sidewalk, completely consumed by thought. When she finally does make it home she chooses not to go inside. In an attempt to avoid everyone she heads into the backyard. She finds a seat in an Adirondack chair, and tries to makes sense of the past twenty four hours. The more she tries to sort things out the more confusing they all become.

"Wendy," she hears her sister calling her name.

She looks up, but doesn't attempt to move. Joanna joins her in the backyard, much to Wendy's dismay. Joanna stops in front of Wendy's chair.

"I made you an appointment."

"Okay," she replies flatly.

"They can't get you in for a few weeks."

"A few weeks?" She arches her eyebrow.

"Five. They are the only practice in town, so they have a pretty lengthy waiting list."

"Unbelievable."

Joanna smirks, "That sums up the entire day, doesn't it?"

"It sums up my entire life," Wendy points out.

Joanna positions herself on the arm of the Adirondack chair.

"Let's just say for a minute that by some miracle what Fredrick says is true, then what?" Joanna wonders.

"I'll have to be put in a mental institute," she jokes.

"Can you be serious, please?"

She shrugs, "I don't know that I want to be serious right now."

"Please," Joanna goads her.

Wendy purses her lips, and is unable to utter an intelligible thought.

"Wendy," Joanna reads her facial expression, "Talk to me."

"I wouldn't know where to start," she admits.

"The beginning," Joanna suggests.

"How the hell could this have happened?"

"We aren't meant to understand how everything happens."

"I mean I know the mechanics of it, but…" she trails off.

"For a woman who died from syphilis in a past life, how did this happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"I would think that you, of all people would be particularly cautious."

"Apparently not as cautious as I should be."

"Obviously."

"I can't even wrap my brain around the possibility that I might be pregnant. I can't really say that it is something that I ever wanted to happen."

"I remember a time when you did."

"I got over it. I accepted my reality."

Joanna smiles, "Sometimes reality changes."

"I don't think that I can do this," she admits.

"It's okay to be scared."

"I have absolutely no maternal instincts. I can't even keep a potted plant alive."

"That is because you don't water them."

"The only thing a potted plant requires is water."

"You have never really liked plants."

"That is beside the point. I can't keep another living thing alive for any amount of time."

"I think that you're selling yourself short."

"You have to say that because you're my sister, and you're trying to make me feel better."

"Is it working?"

Wendy shakes her head, "Not even a little bit."

"What can I do?"

"Just leave me alone."

Joanna nods, "Fine," she retreats into the house.

Wendy sits in the backyard trying to picture her life with a child. She can't seem to wrap her mind around such a thought. She exhales, and decides just to picture herself pregnant. She fails to be able to do that either.

"Maybe this is all just a really bad dream, and when I wake up it will be over," she tells herself.

She tries to take a nap, but sleep refuses to come. Her mind loops in circles. She vacates her seat, and heads inside. She makes a beeline for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She is thankful that she chose to pull her hair back earlier in the day, as she empties her stomach contents into the toilet bowl.


	8. Bowling Ball

She descends the stairs, moving towards the sound of someone banging on the door. She's dressed in a pair of jeans, and a black hoodie, an ensemble that is far from normal for her. She pulls the door open, and finds Tommy standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" She questions.

"You stopped returning my phone calls."

"I've been busy."

"I haven't seen you in weeks," he points out.

"Like I said, I've just been really busy."

"I was worried about you."

"I'm fine."

"I know that a when I asked you to move in it scared you. I know that you asked me for some space, but I think that I have given you enough."

"How can you know that?"

"It has been over a month."

"I am sorry, I just have a lot going on right now."

"I know that you're afraid of commitment, but I am not asking you to commit to anything."

"Then why are you here?"

"My daughter and I are going bowling tonight, and she begged me to ask you to come with us."

"I don't know."

"Please."

"I'll have to think about it."

"Will you call me when you decide?"

"Sure," she agrees.

"Call me," he repeats as he turns to leave. She closes the door behind him. She heads into the dining room, where Joanna is sitting. She takes a seat next to her.

"Are you going to go?"

"Why are you listening to my conversations?"

"I just overheard."

"Pretend that you didn't," Wendy insists.

"How can I? You haven't been out of this house in weeks. You're starting to live like a recluse. You are being completely ridiculous."

"Am I?" She cocks an eyebrow.

"In my opinion, yes."

"I can't go anywhere," she argues.

"Why not?" Joanna shoots her a questioning look.

"You know why."

"The last time I checked pregnancy was not a disability."

"You know I hate that word," Wendy chides.

"What do you want me to call it?"

"Impossible," Wendy responds.

"What are you so insistent that you can't go anywhere, or do anything?"

"If I could keep from puking long enough to go out in public I would."

"So your solution is to mope around the house for the next several months?"

"I didn't say that."

"What is your plan, exactly?"

"My plan is to go to my appointment tomorrow, and him tell me that this is all a mistake, and that I'm not really pregnant."

"Let me know how that works out for you."

"Why are you being so mean?"

"You are acting like a child. You have been moping around the house for over a month. You barely get out of bed by noon. You act as if your entire life has come to a halt."

"It has."

"And you wear that stupid sweatshirt every single day."

"What is wrong with the sweatshirt?"

"It's not even yours," Joanna points out.

"Freya doesn't care. She never wears it."

"That is not my point."

"What is your point?"

"The only reason, in the past, that you would ever consider wearing that was if you were trying to sneak up on someone, in the dark."

"It's comfortable."

"You have an entire closet full of clothing."

Wendy stomps off, without another word. Hours later she finds herself at a bowling alley, against her will. She is no longer hiding behind a black hooded sweatshirt. Instead, she wears a black dress, as if she's in mourning. She takes her turn, and then returns to her seat. Tommy looks over at her, and smiles.

"What?" She makes eye contact with him.

"I am glad you came out with us tonight. I have missed you."

"I may have missed you too," she teases.

"You look beautiful," he adds.

"Thanks."

"Wendy when I asked you to move in, I wasn't trying to scare you off."

"I know."

"If I had known how you were going to react I wouldn't have asked at all. I didn't realize that it was going to be such an issue."

"I am just not ready to move in with you."

"That's fine, but I felt like you completely cut me off. You stopped returning my phone calls. I was beginning to think that…"

She cuts him off, "Stike!"

He looks up, and finds his daughter standing at the end of the alley. She turns, and runs back to them with a huge smile on her face.

"Did you see that?" She questions.

"I did," Wendy smiles, "It was amazing."

When they are finished bowling they drop Wendy off. Joanna is waiting on her when she comes through the door.

"How was it?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?" Joanna questions.

"It was nice. We had a good time. His daughter even got a strike."

"You actually enjoyed yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Black, again?"

Wendy furrows her brow, and looks down at her outfit, "What's wrong with black?"

"Nothing, you just act as if you're in mourning."

Wendy simply rolls her eyes.

"Did you tell him?" Joanna queries.

"Tell him what?"

"Of course not," Joanna shakes her head in disbelief.


	9. Sinking Heart

She doesn't sleep well that night. She tosses, and turns for the majority of the night. She wakes up early, to the sound of an alarm clock. She showers, and gets dressed. She makes her way down the stairs into the kitchen. She finds Joanna preparing a feast. The smell of bacon hits her nostrils, and she finds herself lurching over the sink. When she's finished she brushes her teeth, and leaves the house without a word to her sister.

As she sits in the waiting room she twirls her hair nervously. Luckily her appointment is the first one of the day, so she doesn't have to deal with a whole waiting room of stares. The receptionist calls her name, and a nurse leads her back to an exam room. She waits on the exam table in a paper dress, for the doctor to come in. He finally enters the room, and begins his exam. She grips the edge of the table as he squirts green goo onto her abdomen.

"Are you nervous?" He questions.

She swallows hard, choking back bile, "Yeah."

"Is this your first?" He questions.

"Uh huh," she nods.

"Let's have a look."

"Okay," she agrees.

She closes her eyes, afraid to look at the screen. Silently she wishes that this is all a hoax, and that he doesn't find anything. Her silent bubble of denial is rudely interrupted by a rhythmic noise that fills the room. She opens her eyes, and looks at the screen.

"That is your baby's heartbeat," the doctor reveals to her.

"Holy shit!" Her heart skips a beat.

He moves the probe around. He points to the image on the screen, "There is your baby."

"Oh," her heart sinks as she realizes she can no longer deny what's happening to her body.

"You appear to be about eight weeks a long."

"Something like that," she nods in agreement.

"I am going to print you off some pictures, and write you a prescription for some prenatal vitamins. You'll have to stop at the receptionist to make a follow up appointment."

"Okay," she agrees, feeling numb.

* * *

When she arrives home she is relieved to find that the house is empty. She trudges up the stairs towards her room. She doesn't think twice as she sprawls out on top of the quilt. She lies on top of the bed staring up at the ceiling in silence. She plans on spending her entire day sulking. Her plans are interrupted by the sound of her phone. She pulls the phone out of her pocket, and presses it to her ear.

"What are you up to?" A familiar voice asks her.

"Nothing," she admits.

"My daughter is with her mom tonight, and I was hoping that you would come over."

"Is this a booty call?"

"No, but I wouldn't complain if it turned into one," he chuckles.

"What time?"

"I'm just finishing up my shift now."

"Then you're probably exhausted."

"I get tomorrow off, and then I'm on for three days straight. Don't make me beg."

"I'll be there in a little while."

"I am going to pick up a bite to eat on the way home do you want anything?"

"No."

"I'll see you in a little while."

"Okay," she hangs up.

He is waiting for her at his place. He opens the door before she has the chance to knock. She steps into the apartment, and is overwhelmed by the smell of food. She begins to gag.

"Are you okay?"

"What are you eating?" She questions swallowing hard.

"An angry Mexican."

"Huh?"

"That is the name of the burger. It has jalapeños, and…"

She throws up one hand, and claps the other over her mouth. He stops talking as she heads over to the sink. He quickly returns his meal to its container. He stuffs the container into the fridge. He studies her body language, and her facial expression. He furrows his brow.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He reaches into the refrigerator, and pulls out a bottle of water. He hands it to her. She takes a swig, and prays that he will change the subject.

"Wendy, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," she lies through her teeth.

He takes a step towards her. She moves a pace closer to him. Within a couple of seconds there is no space between them. Without another word he wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

"I missed you," he tells her as he lets go.

She takes a single step back, "I missed you too."

"Where do you foresee this going?" He queries as he lifts her onto the counter.

She smiles devilishly at him, "Absolutely nowhere."

"I am being serious, and you are being naughty."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No," he shakes his head.

Hours later he's sound asleep in his bed. She lies next to him, watching him as he sleeps. Satisfied that he's actually asleep she slips out from underneath the sheet, and proceeds to collect her clothing off the floor one garment at a time. She quickly gets dressed, and makes a beeline for the door.

* * *

When she gets home she finds that Joanna is already home for work. When she comes into the house she can hear her in the kitchen. She looks at her watch, and heads in her sister's direction. Joanna works on the sink full of dirty dishes.

"What are you doing home?" Wendy questions.

"Today was a half day."

"Since when do you ever get to come home early?"

"The science department had an employee learning day today."

"How lovely."

"How was your…"

Wendy cuts her off, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Where were you?"

"When?"

"Just now," she replies.

"I was at Tommy's."

"Did you tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

Joanna groans in frustration. She points to the kitchen table, "Sit," she insists. Wendy rolls her eyes as she parks herself in one of the kitchen chairs. Joanna takes a seat next to her.


	10. One Life

Joanna tries to gauge Wendy's facial expression, but Wendy looks past her as if she isn't even there. She exhales, and tries to approach the conversation delicately.

"We have to talk about it eventually," Joanna points out.

"I don't see why."

"You know why," Joanna argues.

"I don't want to do this now," Wendy insists.

"Too bad. How was your appointment today?"

"It was even worse than I expected."

"How so?"

"It sucked," she replies, childishly.

"What sucked about it?"

"Every single moment of it."

"Can you be more specific?"

"I could."

"Wendy, come on."

"I don't even know how to begin to process all of this."

"I will help you."

"Joanna I am not like you. I am not maternal. I have absolutely no maternal instincts. I can't do this."

"So he confirmed…"

Wendy cuts her off, "I have somehow managed to get myself knocked up," she confirms.

"I can understand why you're upset."

"Upset doesn't even begin to cover it. I am pissed," she admits.

"Okay."

"And confused," she adds.

"What did he say?"

Wendy breaks eye contact as she shrugs, "Everything looked normal."

"That's good."

She chokes back tears, "I guess."

"So you got to see it?"

"Unfortunately, yes," she nods, "And I heard the heartbeat."

"Wendy I know that you are…"

The vein in her forehead begins to pulsate, "You don't know anything."

"I know that it never gets easier. It is always scary, no matter how many times you do it."

"You get eternity. I get this one life. I could die tomorrow."

"Wendy…"

Wendy shoves her chair back, and leaves the kitchen. She climbs the stairs to her bedroom, and slams the door behind her. She sits on the edge of her bed, in silence. The reality of the situation begins to crash down around her. She feels confused, and angry, and overwhelmed. She leans back on the bed, while her legs dangle over the edge. The tears begin to well up in her eyes. She touches her abdomen, and then retracts her hand as if she's touched hot coals.

"This can't be happening," she tells herself. Her mind races as she tries to make sense of everything. She sits back up. She moves towards the head of the bed. She stops at the bedside table, and pulls open the drawer it contains. She reaches her hand inside of the drawer, and pulls something out. She takes the images, and spreads them out on her bed. She carefully studies each one of them.

She is so consumed by her own thoughts, and emotions that she doesn't hear the creaking floorboard, or the sound of her door opening. Joanna stands in the door way, just watching her. She clears her throat, and Wendy spins towards her.

"What are you doing?" Wendy questions defensively.

"I came up here to check on you."

"Please go."

"No," Joanna insists, moving closer.

Feeling completely defeated, Wendy takes a seat on the edge of the bed. Joanna takes a seat next to her. Wendy grabs one black and white image from the many strewn across her bed. She glances at the picture, and then hands it to Joanna.

"I still can't believe it," she admits.

Joanna smiles as she stares at the picture, "I think that you're going to have to start believing it."

"I don't want to believe it. I never wanted this. I can't do this."

"I suppose that you don't have to. No one is saying that you have to. You could choose not to, if you wanted."

"I don't know what I want," she admits.

* * *

Weeks later, she stands in front of her mirror, trying to pick out something to wear on her date. She tosses selection, after selection back onto her bed. She sighs in frustration, feeling defeated. She wears a pair of yoga pants, and a t-shirt. She studies her reflection in the mirror. Her t-shirt is tighter than she remembers. She turns to the side. From the side the changes are much easier to see. She finds it more difficult to deny with each passing day. She pushes the thought from her mind, and continues to get dressed.

She meets Tommy at a restaurant for dinner. He smiles when he sees her. He pulls her chair out, and she takes a seat. She wears a little black dress. She silently marvels at the fact that she can still fit into it. Unbeknownst to her Joanna spent the past two days carefully taking the dress out.

"You look beautiful," he admits.

"Thank you."

The waiter comes, and brings them drinks. He pours a couple of glasses of wine. Wendy tries to conceal the panic that has begun to set in. She quietly asks for a glass of water.

By the end of the meal it is obvious to Tommy that she is hiding something. He glances at her plate, and then to her wine glass. He furrows his brow.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Why?"

"You barely touched your food. You can order something else, if you don't like it."

"I guess I just wasn't as hungry as I thought I was."

"Oh. You didn't like the wine?"

She stares at the untouched glass of red wine. "I should have told you, I am not really a fan of red wine. It gives me a headache," she fibs.

"I'll order some white…"

She cuts him off, "That's not necessary."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"Really?"

"Are you finished?" She quizzes.

"Yes," he nods in confirmation.

"Then we should go."

"Okay," he eyes her suspiciously.

He walks her home. The walk is mostly silent. He breaks the silence less than a block from the house, just when she thinks that she's in the clear.

"Wendy are you sure that you're okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seem distracted lately."

"I'm sorry."

"Is something on your mind?"

"Just some family stuff," she stretches the truth.

He stops her, "You're sure?"

She nods, "Yes."

"You would tell me if something was wrong?"

"Of course," she lies.


	11. Distance

She sits on the edge of an exam table waiting for the doctor to enter the room. Her bare legs dangle over the edge of the table. She squirms in her paper dress. She stares at the clock. Her anxiety rises with each passing second. She feels torn. Part of her hopes that today is the day she learns that it was all a bad dream. The other half… she pushes the thought from her mind. She knows that there is no way to accept the reality at hand until someone hands her a living, breathing newborn, and she can see it in person, with her own two eyes. She tries her best to distract herself. Her glance falls from the clock on the wall to her toes. She studies her freshly painted toenails. She marvels at her own handiwork.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears knuckles pounding against the wooden door. The door opens, and she swallows hard, try to shove down any anxiety she has. She takes a deep breath in an attempt not to lose her breakfast. She barely hears two words he is saying.

She doesn't go straight home, wanting to avoid an empty house, and a head full of her own thoughts. Instead she runs some errands to clear her mind. When she finally gets home she finds herself feeling more anxious, and confused than when she left. She crawls onto the couch, and lies there, staring up at the ceiling. The hum of the dryer from the other room lulls her to sleep. As she sleeps she dreams. She tosses, and turns in her sleep.

As she begins to wake from her nap she feels as if she's being watched. She opens her eyes, and much to her dismay she finds that she's no longer on the couch. She lays face down on the floor. She presses against the floor with the palms of her hands. She shifts into a sitting position. She looks up, and finds Joanna standing at the end of the couch.

Her sister looks down at her and asks, "Is it comfortable down there?"

"Apparently."

"How did you end up on the floor?" Joanna quizzes.

"I must have fallen off the couch in my sleep."

"Must have been some dream you were having."

"What makes you say that?" Wendy cocks an eyebrow.

"You're on the floor, and when I came in you were screaming."

"What was I screaming?"

"No. You kept screaming no, over and over again."

"Oh."

Joanna offers her a hand. Wendy manages to make it to her feet.

"Wendy what's going on with you?" Joanna questions with a look of great concern.

Wendy rolls her eyes, and takes a seat on the couch, "You know what's wrong with me."

Joanna takes a seat next to her, on the couch. "Maybe if you would talk about it you would feel better."

"How would talking about it make me feel better?"

Joanna shrugs, "I don't know. It would make me feel better."

"Because this is all about you."

"No, it's not. That isn't what I meant."

"Why can't I just have a normal life?"

"Wendy this is probably as close to normal as you are going to get," Joanna points out.

"Last night Tommy asked me what was wrong."

"Did you tell him?"

Wendy shakes her head, "How could I?"

"Why wouldn't you tell him? He asked."

"I already feel like I lied to him."

Joanna furrows her brow, "Why would you feel like you lied to him?"

"We had a discussion about kids, and I told him that I couldn't have any."

"That wasn't a lie. At the time you had no reason to believe that you could."

"Fast forward three months, and I'm three months pregnant. At least I'm not having a litter," she responds, bitterly.

"You're not?"

"Isn't one baby enough? I am not even sure that I want that one."

"If you're not sure then why didn't you already do something about it? You could have chosen not to have one at all."

Wendy shrugs, "I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. I have seen the images on the screen, but I feel like I can't believe it until it's actually here."

"I can't believe that it's not starting to set in. I mean you're starting to show."

"I know."

"Wendy I think that you should tell Tommy the truth."

"I wouldn't even know where to start. I can't just go over there, and blurt out, 'Hey, guess what, I was wrong, I can get pregnant, and you manage to knock me up. Now I'm having your kid.' I don't think that would go over very well."

"You could ease into it."

"There is no easing into it."

"You need to tell him."

"Why? He doesn't have to know."

"Are you planning on not telling him at all?"

"What's wrong with that plan?"

"He might become suspicious when you give birth, and suddenly have a child."

"Or not."

"I think that he'll notice before then."

"I don't want to tell him."

"Now, or ever?"

"Ever."

"How are you going to manage that?"

"Maybe I'll just leave town, and…"

Joanna cuts her off, "Just stop. You are being completely ridiculous. You have to tell him."

Her sister's words ring in her head for the next several hours. Somehow she finds herself standing at his door. She takes a deep breath, and knocks, silently hoping that he won't be home. She hears footsteps, and the door opens. He smiles at her, and motions for her to come in. She follows him into the apartment.

"I didn't know you were coming over, or I would have cleaned up."

Wendy surveys the living room. It is a complete and total disaster, "It is okay."

"I had my daughter last night, and I didn't have a chance to clean up yet."

"Is she here, now?"

"No I dropped her off to her mom this morning."

"Oh."

"What brings you by?"

"I can't just stop in because I want to see you?"

"You can, but you usually don't."

"Oh."

"You've been a little bit distant lately."


	12. Alone

"I'm sorry."

"So why are you really here?'

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Okay," he nods in agreement.

She leads him into the kitchen, where they take a seat on a pair of barstools, at the counter. "What's up?" He queries.

"I know that this is going to seem like it's coming from somewhere out in left field, but would you ever want more kids?"

"I am pretty happy with the one that I've got. Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious."

He places his hand on her leg, reassuringly, "You don't have to worry about me. Is this why you don't want to move in?"

She furrows her brow, "What?"

"You're afraid to move in, because you're afraid that eventually I'll change my mind, and decide that I do want more kids, and this won't work out?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"I want to be with you."

"That's good to know."

"I'm not going to change my mind because you can't have kids. That doesn't matter to me. I've already got on perfectly healthy kid, and I am fine with that. I promise you I'm not going to change my mind."

"Oh," her heart sinks.

"To be perfectly honest, I felt a little bit relieved when you told me that you couldn't have kids. It really took the pressure off. Most women want to settle down, and have kids, and you're not like that."

"Right," she nods, breaking eye contact.

"Kids are a lot of work. I would much rather our relationship just be about the two of us. We can just focus on us, and that is great."

She exhales, "I don't think that we should see each other anymore."

He furrows his brow, "What? Where is this coming from?"

"It's been fun while it lasted, but I get bored easily," she fibs.

"Wendy, where is this coming from?"

She tries not to cry, "I think that I should go," she slides off the bar stool, and makes a beeline for the door. He grabs her by the arm. "Wait," he insists, spinning her around.

"I should go," she repeats.

"I don't want you to go," he argues.

"This isn't going to work out," she insists as she pushes past him.

He reacts quickly, jumping between her, and the door, "What just happened?"

"I can't do this," she admits.

"Why not?"

"I hate commitment. It never ends well for me. It is better for everyone involved if we just end it now."

"How can you even say that?"

"Please just let me go."

"What am I missing?" He questions.

"Nothing," she shakes her head.

He steps aside, feeling defeated. She leaves the apartment, and heads home. By the time she pulls in the driveway, she's sobbing. She turns off the car, and sits inside for several minutes. She takes the keys out of the ignition, and pushes the door open. She exits the vehicle, and heads inside. She goes in the back door, hoping that she can slip in unnoticed.

"How did it go?" Joanna questions from the kitchen.

"Fine," she lies as she heads for the stairs.

"Wendy?" Joanna calls after her.

"What?"

"Come here."

"No," she growls as she starts up the stairs.

"I am guessing that it didn't go very well."

"What makes you think that?"

"It's pouring out there."

"Leave me alone," Wendy insists as she climbs the stairs. She reaches her room, and slams the door behind her. She peels off her wet clothes, and pulls on a pair of pajamas. Before she can manage to crawl under her covers Joanna is knocking at her door.

"Go, away!"

The door opens, and Joanna enters the room, uninvited.

"Why is it that rules don't apply to you? Everyone has to respect your boundaries, but you don't have to respect anyone else's?"

"What happened?"

"I tried to tell him."

"What do you mean tried?"

"He kept going on about how he doesn't want anymore kids."

"Maybe he was just telling you that because he thinks that you can't."

"He meant it."

"How can you be sure?"

"I didn't tell him, I couldn't. I told him that it was over."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Why can't you fix this?"

"Fix what?"

"Can't you turn back time, and keep this from happening?"

"Even if I could turn back time I doubt that I could keep it from happening."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you would have slept with him anyway."

"Probably, but you could have warned me…"

Joanna cuts her off, "And you would have laughed at me, and done what you wanted to do anyway. You always have."

"I wish that this time I didn't," Wendy argues.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you and I both know that this changes everything."

"Yeah," she nods.

"So what are you going to do?"

"As much as just the thought terrifies me, I guess I am going to have a baby. I am going to have to do it on my own. I guess that I will just have to wrap my brain around that."

"You're never alone," Joanna argues.

"You're right. I can't be alone because I am in the process of gestating another human being."

Joanna smiles, "That wasn't what I meant."

"I know."

"How was your appointment this morning?"

"About as terrible as the last."

"Really?"

"I am still not prepared when I see that blob on the screen. It catches me off guard every single time."

"I can imagine."

"The good news is that it doesn't have horns, or tentacles," she smirks.

"What a relief."

"I did learn something that surprised me though."

"You aren't even halfway there."

"I already knew that. Unfortunately, unlike you I have to be pregnant the entire nine months."

"It's really ten," Joanna corrects her.

Wendy rolls her eyes, "Thank you for reminding me."

"What did you learn that surprised you?"

"He said that it wasn't too early to find out the gender."

"So you found out?"

"No. It was being stubborn, and wouldn't uncross its legs."


	13. Thankful For

_ She wakes up to the shrill sound of a crying infant. Her eyelids feel as heavy as lead as she opens them. She looks around the room, and tries to determine the source of the crying. She crawls out of bed, and heads towards the corner of the room. She peers into the white bassinet, and finds a red-faced, screaming baby. The baby tries to free itself from the blanket that it is swaddled in. She lifts the baby out of the bassinet, and places it over her shoulder. The screaming continues as she pats the baby. She hears a door open behind her, followed by footsteps. She spins around, and finds her sister moving towards her. _

_Joanna slips the baby out of her arms, "Don't you know what you're doing?" She growls. As soon as the baby hears Joanna's voice, it stops crying._

* * *

Wendy sits straight up in bed. She finds herself tangled in her covers, and drenched in a cold sweat in the dark, quiet serenity of her own bedroom. She rolls over, and flips on the lamp. She glances at the clock, and tries to re-orient herself to reality. She feels as if her heart may pound out of her chest. She takes several slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. She untwists her covers, smoothing them out with her hand. She pushes them off herself, feeling hot.

She looks down, and finds her stomach staring back at her. It's been weeks upon weeks since she's seen Tommy. Finally he's stopped calling. In fact, in the past weeks she's become somewhat of a recluse, unwilling to deal with people's gawking. Her hand rests on her stomach.

In her waking hours she does her best to avoid the entire situation. Each morning she wakes up with her hand resting on her growing stomach. She takes a deep breath, and presses her hand against her abdomen. The reality becomes harder to deny with each passing day. As her hands rests on her stomach she can feel the baby move. She turns off the lamp, and attempts to return to a state of unconsciousness.

The sun streaming in her window wakes her up. She groans as she crawls out of bed, and heads for the curtains. She pulls the curtains closed, and turns around in an attempt to go back to bed. She finds Joanna standing between her, and the bed. She frowns, disapprovingly.

"Move!"

"I need you to go to the store."

"I don't want to go to the store," she argues.

"If you want to have anything for dinner you do."

"Why can't you go?"

"Because I am cooking said dinner."

"Why are you making such a big deal out of this dinner?"

"It is Thanksgiving dinner."

"I hate the holidays," Wendy groans.

"We all have a lot to be thankful for this year."

"Name one thing?"

"We are all back together, in one place."

"Okay, I'll give you that one."

"And our family is growing," Joanna smiles, reaching for Wendy's stomach.

Wendy slaps her hand away, "Don't touch me."

"You are the crankiest pregnant person I have ever met."

"Jo, I don't want to go to the store. It is going to be a madhouse. Why can't one of the girls go?"

"The girls are busy."

"Doing what?"

"Ingrid is at work."

"And Freya?"

"Freya is downstairs cooking."

"Please don't do this to me," Wendy begs.

"Put on some clothes, and get over it."

"It's cold," Wendy whines.

"You're always hot. The fresh air will do you good. I really need you to go, now. The store closes in an hour and a half."

"Why are they closing at noon?"

"Because it is a holiday."

"It is such an overrated holiday," she argues.

"You won't feel that way next year."

"How do you know that?"

"As resistant as you are to all of this, even you know that having a child changes everything."

"I had a nightmare about it last night."

"About what?"

"The baby."

"Did it have horns?" Joanna jokes.

"That's not funny."

"I'm sorry. I am being insensitive."

"I dreamt that the baby was crying, and I got out of bed, and it just kept crying. You stormed in, and took it out of my arms, and asked if I knew what I was doing."

"Wendy you are going to be fine."

"I am not certain that I believe that."

"Why not?"

"People still die during childbirth."

"Not very often."

"What if I die?"

"How many times have we discussed this?"

"Just one more time," Wendy begs.

"I don't have time for this. It is starting to snow. I need you to go to the store."

She quickly gathers the items on Joanna's list, and waits for eons in the check-out line. She tries to hide her bump under a sweater. She still manages to get several questioning looks as she waits in the check-out line. The snow is slicker than snot as Wendy makes her way to the car with the groceries. She almost wipes out on the sidewalk. She manages to make it to the car without much drama. She climbs in the driver's side, and slams the door shut. She turns the engine on, and puts the car into gear. She eases her way out of the parking spot, onto the street. She heads towards the stop sign at the end of the street. Another car starts backing out. She slows down, but it's too little, too late. The car backs into the side of her. At the rate of speed they're going, she's certain that both cars are fine. Before she can react she glances into her rearview mirror. A car behind her slams into the back end of the car. Her body is thrown forward. Her head hits the steering wheel. The air bags deploy, pushing her backwards. She hears the sound of sirens coming towards her as she fades out of consciousness.


	14. Frozen

She temporarily regains consciousness. She hears her door open, and sees a familiar face. Tommy freezes as he reaches for her seatbelt. Someone pushes him aside, and she drifts back into a state of unconsciousness.

When she finally regains consciousness the first thing she hears is the sound of beeping monitors. She feels like her head is swimming, and she finds it hard to open her eyes. Her mouth is bone dry. Then her thoughts drift elsewhere. She opens her eyes, and begins to look around the room. She finds Joanna sitting in a chair at her bedside.

"Jo," she says in a raspy tone.

"Hey," she smiles, "We were worried about you."

"How long was I out?" She questions.

"A couple of hours."

She reaches up, and pulls the oxygen tubing out of her nose, "I want to go home."

"You can't go home. You have to stay overnight for observation."

"I just want to go home."

"Tomorrow," Joanna responds.

Wendy swallows hard, "The baby."

"Is fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Disbelieving, she pushes her covers down. She takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the possibilities. She presses her hand to her stomach. She feels a swift kick, and is satisfied.

"You have some explaining to do," Joanna informs her.

"I tried to stop, I couldn't, and then all of a sudden…"

Joanna cuts her off, "I know what happened. That isn't what I'm talking about. Tommy was the first one on the scene."

"Oh."

"He's been waiting for you to wake up."

"I don't want to see him."

"Wendy you have to face the music at some point or another."

"He doesn't want this."

"You don't know that."

"He told me that he didn't."

"You need to talk to him."

"My head is killing me."

"You have concussion. You're lucky that you were sitting far enough away from the steering wheel. They were afraid that the force of the airbags may have fractured cervical vertebrae."

"I just want to go home."

There is a knock at the door. Joanna looks up, and finds Tommy in the doorway. She looks at her sister, and rises from her seat. She plants a kiss on her forehead, and makes a beeline for the doorway.

"I'll just be in the waiting room," she reassures her.

Tommy enters the room. He approaches the bed, and takes a seat next to Wendy. He tries to maintain his composure as he begins the conversation.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried," she insists.

"You should have tried harder."

"I'm sorry. You told me that you didn't want another child."

"Do you know how scared I was today, when I opened that car door? I saw you, but my instincts didn't let it phase me. Then I reached over to unbuckle your seatbelt, and I realized you were pregnant. It stopped me dead in my tracks. So much was going through my head. I froze."

"I don't know what to say."

"You should have told me."

"I know."

"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Is this why you called it quits?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You made it clear that you didn't want this. I thought it was the best thing to do. I thought that it would be easier for everyone this way."

"What would possibly make you think that?"

"Everything that you said."

"I said that because I thought that you couldn't have kids. I didn't want you to feel guilty."

"So you lied to me?"

"No," he shakes his head, "I would have been perfectly content with the one child that I have."

"I didn't want you to think that I lied to you, because I didn't."

He furrows his brow, "What do you mean?"

"When I said that I couldn't have kids, I thought that it was true."

"And medically?"

"I had been told by countless doctors that it wasn't possible. I didn't want you to feel like I was trying to trap you."

"Why would I think that? You were the one who didn't want anything to do with commitment."

"I know. I still don't. The thought of being committed to a child for the rest of my life scares the hell out of me."

"How far along are you, exactly?"

"Twenty weeks."

"Twenty weeks? How long have you known?"

"Most of that time."

"And you never told me?"

"No."

"The entire way here all I could think about was losing you, and losing a child that, up until that very moment, I didn't even know that I wanted."

"I know what you mean."

"You do?"

"Yeah," she nods, afraid admitting anymore will leave her feeling vulnerable.

He reaches over, and squeezes her hand, "So you're having my baby? At least I assume that it is mine."

She nods, "It is."

"So what does it mean for us?"

She shrugs, "I don't know. I am not entirely certain that I will figure that out anytime soon. I am still trying to wrap my head around the thought of having a baby. I still feel as if it hasn't really sunk in yet."

"It will soon enough."

"I don't really know that I can truly believe it until I see him in person."

"I felt the same way about Kate. The second that I saw her, everything changed."

"That's what I've heard."

He looks at her, and the reality of the situation begins to set in. He replays what she's just said.

"Did you just say him?"


End file.
